d be lost.

There are very few positions which make greater demands upon one's
judgment, one's diplomacy, and one's temper than this one which Mr.
Cuyler had filled so long and so inimitably. To pick a man's pocket of
all its contents, deliberately selecting those of sufficient value to
retain and throwing the remainder back in his face, is a matter for
fine art, for the broker must not be angered or a good connection is
lost to the office.

And there are artists in both galleries. There are placers who have
all the fine frenzy of a starving poet in a midnight garret, men who
would make the fortune of a country hotel if they would but write for
it a single testimonial advertisement, men whose flow of persuasive
talk is almost hypnotic, whose victims are held just as surely as ever
was Wedding Guest--and with this difference, that while that classic
personage merely turned up late to the ceremony, these charmed men
listen to the siren tongue until they find themselves doing things
which may very readily--if fate is unkind and the risk burns--cost them
their repute and their positions as well.

When such a Pan-Hellenic meeting occurred, Mr. Cuyler rose to his
highest triumphs. It was perhaps a frame celluloid goods factory in
Long Island City, which some soul-compelling voice had just finished
describing, accoutering the grisly thing in all the garments of verbal
glory. One gathered that the Guardian's fate hung on the acceptance of
this translucent risk, that it was a prize saved from the clutches of a
hundred grasping competitors and brought to the counter of the Guardian
like a pure white lamb to the altar of the gods. When it was all over,
and nothing was wanting except Mr. Cuyler's signature to the
binder--then Mr. Cuyler came into his own.

"Joe," the organ note would start--"Joe, that looks as if it might be a
first-rate risk of its class, and some folks think it's not a bad
class, too, when the hazards are properly arranged. I've always
thought myself that the bad record on celluloid workers was largely
accidental. And I don't see how I can turn down anything that comes
from your office--I guess I'll have to help you out with a small line,
anyway. Where's your binder? Wait a second, though. Let me look at
that map again--I forgot my exposing lines. Well! we seem to be pretty
full in that block--eighty-five, ten, twelve-five, sixteen--by Jove!
I'm afraid I'll have to pass that up, after all--I didn't